Thursday, February 20, 2014

In case
you didn’t hear, an Orthodox high school in New York permitted two girls to
wear tefillin at school (this also
happens to be the school where I teach). The firestorm following this decision
focused on a few major issues, with both participants and observers alike
compelled to take a side. Although debating right and wrong is important (if
done respectfully), such argumentation usually leaves the sides looking at each
other solely through a black-and-white lens. This is unfortunate, as the
participants in any debate should be asking themselves “is there anything I
learn from my opponent?” In this case, there are a few things to think about;
I’d like to discuss one of them.

The arguments against women wearing tefillin have been straightforward and without apology. The
dialogue has been strong, but mostly respectful. Some have expressed admiration
for the candor and humility with which SAR presented its decision, whether they
agreed or not. It was encouraging to see people on one side complimenting those
on the other. I would simply like to add one more item of food for thought for
everyone involved: the importance of teaching Ahavat Yisrael through
tolerance. Whatever side you are on, this controversy provides an important
forum for evaluating the degree to which our schools and communities teach this
value.

The perceived educational danger of allowing girls to wear tefillin, even as an exceptional
situation, was a large part of the discussion. Such arguments have been
generally of two types: The first type claims that students will start thinking
that halacha is something to modify
at will. The second type argues that Orthodox schools have a requirement to
uphold Orthodox values and practices at all costs. However, I think both of
these arguments are incomplete and missing an important nuance.

Granted that if one had to choose all-or-nothing between teaching two
educational values, a large majority of Orthodox Jews (myself included) would
take mesorah over tolerance. But this doesn’t mean that mesorah
should always be the overriding educational value at all costs. From tzitzis and skirt-length checks to halacha tests and extra emphasis on Gemara, no dearth of opportunities
exists for teachers to model and teach the importance of keeping with our
traditions. Respect for mesorah is
definitely a major highlight of all Orthodox Jewish education.

This considered, I don’t think we need to fear that a few
instances of tolerance will completely throw off the educational balance
(especially if the reason for the exception is clearly explained to the
students in the school). On the contrary, many students often feel burdened by
the tradition-oriented presentation of Judaism, reacting negatively to a
perceived lack of flexibility and tolerance. Maybe a show of tolerance or two
would be beneficial to these young men and women.

Tolerance
is a Jewish value. Whether or not one agrees to the degree to which tolerance
is practiced in modern society is one thing. However, the messages of v’ahavta
l’reiacha kamocha and (hocheiach tochiach et amitecha) v’lo tisa
alav cheit cannot be ignored. So why is it that we are so quick to put down
those who disagree with us? Why is it so easy for many in our communities to
make racist comments and jokes? We need to ask ourselves whether we teach and
model “respect for the other” enough. The more we think about it, the more we
may not like the answer.

So, to
those against the decision because Orthodox schools have the responsibility to
teach Orthodox values: are we not responsible to teach tolerance and respect?
And to those who argued against exposing students to flexibility in Jewish
practice: is it really so bad to teach about it once in a while? This is not to
claim that one side of tefillin
debate is right and another is wrong (and definitely not to claim that
tolerance should automatically override all halachic concerns). However,
even if you disagree with the decisions made, please realize that teaching
tolerance is not poison to our students, and to many, it might be exactly what
they need. Whether you are a teacher, rabbi, or parent, at least think about
it.

To
conclude with a story: A friend of mine told me about an experience he had when
speaking with his class about davening. The conversation quickly turned
to the compound challenge of tefillah length and finding meaning. My
friend told his students that he might encourage an individual to take tefillah
slowly, skipping certain parts at the outset if necessary, to build towards a
complete and meaningful tefillah. After making this point, one of his
students stood up, slapped him five, and gave a genuine “thank you.” Although
this is simply a story, it must make one think: maybe a little well-placed tolerance
can go a long way.

About Me

I teach limmudei kodesh in the MO school system. I'm one of those "cool young Rabbis" who isn't really cool and isn't really a Rabbi. However, I have the secret power to trick teenagers into thinking I'm cool by using my taste in music and sense of humor. I can also trick them into thinking I'm a Rabbi, but that's easier.